"It's now publicly known we did not think Rosa Funzeca was appropriate for a screening in Venice. But after everything that had happened, somehow we had to put it in the programme," de Hadeln says, elliptically. "Franco Bernabe, the former chairman of the Biennale and someone I highly respected, said to me, ‘You are free, I've guaranteed your freedom. But I appeal to your diplomatic sense. Is it worth a major battle with a minister who is the one giving the money to the festival, or is there a way to find a compromise?' And that was it. He never told me what to do. He left it up to me. And I finally decided it wasn't worth the conflict. These are the challenges that a festival director is confronted with very often."
Still, de Hadeln insists it is all about setting limits. He cites another example, again in Venice. In 2003, he invited actress Claudia Cardinale to be jury chairwoman. "She had more or less agreed, but her husband, [Italian director] Pasquale Squittieri, had just finished a film, L'Avvocato Di Gregorio, and he wanted to submit it to the festival. We saw the film, we didn't find it suitable. Squittieri told me, ‘It's either both of us - the film and Claudia - or neither,' And to my great regret, I said neither, because I don't like to be put under pressure in such a way."
"It was one of my most terrible moments"
De Hadeln, who has a reputation as a formidable organiser, insists that, like a wedding, the secret behind a good festival lies in the months of planning that precede it. In a thinly veiled allusion to the organisational problems that marred this year's Venice film festival, he insists that planning is so important that once a festival starts, "there is very little a director can do if things go wrong."
"Of course, there is an enormous amount of adrenaline that you have to invest in it, so that you forget you're tired because you want it to succeed," he says. "But during the festival, a director's role is nothing very much more than to be a co-ordinator. You have to plan, to foresee things in advance, to train the right people in advance for the jobs they're going to do, whether it's small jobs or big jobs. This is the job of a festival director."
De Hadeln says that during each festival in Berlin and Venice, he tried to have daily meetings with the heads of the event's various sections to see if there were any problems and, if so, quickly correct them.
"But for the rest, you spend your time receiving delegations, giving interviews - always the same questions - and on the red carpet, welcoming filmmakers, presenting films on stage, attending meetings and meeting people. The tragedy of these major festivals, I once calculated it, is that if you have a 12 or 14-hour day, you are not able to talk seriously with more than 500 people in 12 days. If you count the amount of guests and press attending at a major festival, it means you are talking to one-fifth of the people who are there, which is always very frustrating because among these people you have many friends you'd like to take time out with. But you just can't.
"Then of course, there's a lot of administrative work to be done, answering e-mails, the phone. Another thing the director is there for, is for complaints. 'My hotel room is lousy', 'I have the wrong accreditation', etc. My trick was always to say, 'I'm very sorry to hear this, but you know we have commissions taking care of this. I cannot do anything but I will ask them to take care of it.' Even if I didn't have any commission for it. One has to be a little bit evasive in certain circumstances."
Among the festival directors he rates most highly, de Hadeln counts Cannes chiefs Gilles Jacob and Thierry Fremaux, Toronto's Piers Handling, Telluride's Tom Luddy, Pusan's Kim Dong-ho and Chicago's Michael Kutza. His successors in Berlin and Venice, Dieter Kosslick and Marco Mueller are noticeably absent from his list - although he readily includes past Venice directors such as Guglielmo Biraghi, Carlo Lizzani, Felice Laudadio and Alberto Barbera.